


It Was Bound to Happen

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attraction, BDSM, Body Worship, Bossy Peter Hale, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Boys Kissing, Comfort, Coming Untouched, Desperation, Dom Peter, Dom Peter Hale, Dom/sub Play, Edgeplay, Edging, Feelings, Hand Jobs, Implied Anal Sex, Kink Negotiation, Kissing, Licking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, NO DADDY KINK- creeps me out, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pining, Pinning Hands, Pinning up against the wall, Praise Kink, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Kissing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Skin caressing, Smut, Stiles Stilinski Being Oblivious, Stiles can't help it, Stiles is Stiles, Sub Stiles, Tied-Up Stiles Stilinski, Tongues, Wax Play, Whipping, feelings reveal, light rope bondage, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25010869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Stiles yelped, an incredulous stare forcing his umber eyes to saucer. Peter had pushed him against the wall.“You just never…shut… up, Stiles.” What had been the beginnings of an erection turned his cock to granite when the wolf drove his tongue inside his mouth, seizing it in utter ravishment.“How about we find something a little more interesting for that pretty little mouth to do?”
Relationships: Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 16
Kudos: 207





	It Was Bound to Happen

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't sleep and this fic happened. Enjoy!

Stiles yelped, an incredulous stare forcing his umber eyes to saucer.  
Peter had pushed him against the wall.  
_Peter_ had pushed _him_ against the wall.  
  
“You just never…shut… up, Stiles.” The words _never shut up_ were punctuated by Peter tilting his head left and right.  
The caress of lips on his mouth sent a flush of adrenaline through Stiles’ body. The Alpha’s breath was cool and crisp, like a swallow of mint ice cream.  
How did they get from Peter’s invitation to Stiles being pinned between two massive arms?  
  
“How can one person talk so much?” Peter licked his lower lip with a slow sweep. His mouth grazed Stiles’ earlobe, then traced down his jaw.  
“Um… um…” Stiles stuttered in a hush. The loft wall felt like an icebox against his warming skin. Was this a rhetorical question?! He was born chatty?!  
  
“How about we find something a little more interesting for that pretty little mouth to do?”  
The sound of Peter’s voice. Its suggestion. Soooo Peter was attracted to him?!  
What had been the beginnings of an erection turned Stiles' cock to granite when the wolf drove his tongue inside his mouth, seizing it in utter ravishment.  
_Oh. My. God._

Their arousal roared to life, Peter emitting a low growl, smothering him with demanding mastery. Stiles whimpered, muscles tensed from the shock, his knees wobbly. After a few seconds he finally succumbed, placing a tentative hand on Peter’s back and one on his nape.   
  
Peter had invited Stiles over to have a real conversation about their attraction. Honestly the elephant in the room had become unmanageable, and more than that so was the overpowering sexual desire that had been driving both men crazy for weeks.   
The stolen glances, the excuses to see him... “Just fuck him already,” Derek had deadpanned, slamming his book shut and throwing his inky head back in despair. “I can’t hear about this anymore.”   
He'd lost count of the eye rolls his nephew had flashed him. Derek was right, he just needed to tell Stiles the truth, because he was sure the anxious human was also smitten.   
Stiles may have been clumsy by nature but he never dropped so many things and walked into as much furniture as when he was around Peter.   
  
Scott fared no better, having to talk Stiles down from his paranoia. His friend’s unexplainable infatuation with the older man was truly a mystery to him.  
“You like _Peter?_ ” Scott had exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “I don’t get it. I just don’t get it… but hey, you do you, Stiles.”  
Shrugging, he’d offered his moral support but past that didn’t want to pry, nor did he have answers to, all of his twitchy best friend’s queries.  
  
_Do you think he likes me back?  
Did you ever see him looking at me?  
He’s mean to me, you think that’s like a playground thing, Scott? Like he secretly likes me?  
_It was like middle school all over again.   
  
In an attempt to move things along, (and with considerable encouragement from Derek who packed a bag and threatened not to return until they’d “done it already”), Peter had extended an invitation.  
Panic ensued, but a good panic. Stiles accepted.   
  
Being an ambulatory casing for nervous energy, made worse when he was horny, as soon as Stiles walked through the door he started up like a motor. Honestly, it was hard to keep up with half of the things he was saying most of the time, let alone now.  
Peter hadn’t been able to get a single word in. It was frustrating, especially since Stiles hadn’t seemed to notice the way Peter couldn’t keep his eyes off him. He was oblivious to Peter’s roving gaze and flushed cheeks.  
All of this needed a push in the right direction and that’s when Peter had decided a little aggression might go a long way.  
  
“Peter?” Stiles’ pout was slick and puffy when they broke. “You… you like me, Peter?”  
DUH! His head immediately screamed. No, Stiles, he told himself. Peter just pinions and kisses everyone he invites over to the loft!  
  
The wolf’s face rearranged itself into a grin. He shook his head. “Oh Stiles…”

This right here was one of the biggest things that had attracted Peter to him. Not only was he handsome, sexy (in a dorky way), and highly intelligent… the naïve innocence that contrasted his often astute observations was incredibly endearing.  
And the kid was hot. He didn’t really know he was and that made it sexier.  
  
The way Stiles felt toward Peter was difficult to put into words, and with how scatterbrained he could be, it would be impossible to explain it to him right now even if he tried, as all the blood seemed to have traveled far _south_.  
For sure, the man exuded animalistic energy and his scent was something that got Stiles erect with only a thought. The fact that their relationship thus far had been based on mutual jabs and sarcasm intrigued him. He was definitely a worthy rival and it would probably make their sex even spicier.  
_Their sex.  
  
_So the confession was implied and now Peter had him against the wall with only his arm pressed against Stiles’ heaving chest. The wolf sighed heavily at the nearness and loosened his grip a bit, but still made sure that he had Stiles’ undivided attention.  
For the moment he’d shut him up, so before Stiles could open his mouth and ask him some other question again, Peter finally revealed his feelings.  
The longer he spoke the further Stiles’ jaw dropped. He stood there, gaping at his confession and trying to remember how to speak because there were two shiny blue marbles boring into him, sending a coil of heat spiraling through his insides.  
Not only did Peter not hate him, he also wanted him in the same way, something he would’ve considered practically impossible.  
  
Stiles had yet to reply verbally, but his body spoke volumes. There was a clear shadow of an impressive erection pulling on the fabric of his jeans, and from what he could gather of Stiles’ blown eyes and quivering limbs, he felt exactly the same.  
That was all he needed to know.  
The men had retreated a bit, leaving room between them, but in the silence Stiles found himself back up against the wall, this time _much_ closer than before, with Peter slowly bending his face near.  
“Do you want me? Here? Now?”  
Stiles shivered as the molecules of air tickled his ear, Peter whispering into him, his body pressed against him so forcefully he couldn’t move an inch… it was all making him dizzy.  
He nodded. “Yes… yes, I want you.”  
MONTHS of midnight autoerotic ministrations, daydreams about how and when it would finally take place… here they were.   
  
“Are you up for a little adventure, Stiles?” Peter revealed what he had planned. Not just Stiles, also he'd been thinking about this a lot.  
  
Stiles couldn’t help it when he trembled slightly at his words, his face scarlet as the vision formed in his mind’s eye.  
Holy shit.  
He felt a familiar warmth spread from his core and ignite at every point of contact between them.  
  
“Think you can follow instruction, Stiles? Be a good boy for me?”  
Peter angled Stiles’ chin with two fingers and then satisfyingly settled his mouth on his.  
“Yes,” Stiles breathed. “I… I can be good.”  
  
Jesus Christ he was leaking as Peter told him everything that he wanted to do to him, going into increasing detail until he knew that Stiles was putty in his hands, shaking like a leaf against him.  
  
Stiles could barely draw breath, he’d never heard Peter speak like this, and certainly no one had ever done things of this nature to him before.  
He was under Peter’s control and would’ve done anything to keep him talking, to keep them pressed up against each other like this. Peter kept shifting as he finished his explanation, the jut of his hips against Stiles’, the brand of his hot cock against his... it was making him gasp aloud every few seconds.  
  
Oh, Stiles would gasp much more often soon enough, Peter thought. He traced small circles on his wrists where he had pinned Stiles’ hands above his head.

It wasn’t all talk. Peter fully intended to do all of what he'd promised, and Stiles knew it by the sultry tone of his voice.  
He flinched in surprise when the wolf moved him from the wall and threw him onto the wooden table behind them. Not enough to hurt, just… enough for Stiles to know who was boss.  
  
Peter didn’t give a second thought to everything that fell to the floor when he adjusted his body so he was laying down comfortably on it. "Don't move."   
Stiles didn’t object as he ripped open his shirt and threw the tattered remains across the room.  
“Are you okay with this?” Peter asked gently as he progressed with the rest of his clothes, lingering when he slid lower to his groin.

“Yes.” Stiles was on fire. Things tingled that he didn’t know he had.

All his limbs were shaking with need, but he wanted Peter to be the one in control as they had discussed. Peter wasn’t going to touch him until he was good and ready. His erection twitched painfully, arched towards Peter, but he kept quiet and still as decided.   
"Wait for me, Stiles."   
Disappearing a moment, Peter returned with a few strong-looking ropes in his hand, looping them around his hands and ankles tightly.   
Two knots held Stiles’ hands firm and the same was done to his feet. One longer cord linked them, so if he pulled in either direction they would go taut. Peter tested them, making sure they weren’t cutting off Stiles’ circulation.  
"Uncomfortable?"   
Stiles wagged his head.  
“Perfect.”

Peter stepped back to admire his work. “If you flail I’ll have to hog tie you. Don’t make me do that, Stiles. I trust you’ll stay as immobile as possible for me.”

Peter’s eyes roamed over every inch of Stile’s gorgeous naked body, taking in the magnificent view and grinning wickedly. Stiles caught his raking gaze and looked away, his face red from slight embarrassment and a lot of need.

”I won’t flail. I promise.” Stiles was exposed, on display, and being told what to do. It was hot as fuck.

"Good boy. One more thing..."  
Peter extracted a red cloth, pulled from his back pocket. (Nope. He hadn’t hoped or planned for this at all).  
He gave Stiles a mischievous wink before carefully fixing a blindfold over his eyes, all his other senses heightened now that he couldn’t see.  
  
“Are we good, Stiles?”  
The man nodded, waiting for something, anything to happen. Every sensation seemed to magnify by tenfold and he was hyper-aware of Peter moving around the room, circling him like a vulture would his prey.  
He shivered and arched his back off of the table when he felt Peter’s hand drag along his chest, trailing over his body lightly.  
It felt amazing and only made him crave more. Stiles strained towards him but wasn’t able to move very far.  
  
SMACK. Peter's hand bounced back from the impact, leaving finger marks on the outside of Stiles' thigh. Stiles winced, hissing in air through his teeth.   
"You were told not to move. Tsk tsk… patience little one.”  
  
OH GOD! Stiles exhaled and slumped back down when Peter moved away from him, he heard him retreat and for a while, silence pervaded the room.  
Stiles was desperate to be touched again, but it wasn’t going to happen until Peter wanted it to, and he intended to take his time and draw it out for as long as he could.  
Their first time together would end in sex, yes… but this foreplay would make sure Stiles NEVER forgot it.  
  
Spotting that one candle had fallen off of the table, Peter lit it as quietly as he could. He waited for the wax to gather. In the meantime, he teased Stiles with light touches along his body- just brushes. Never giving him exactly what he wanted and avoiding, for the moment, where he would receive the most pleasure.  
Stiles’ pre-come was dribbling from the tip, a lazy necklace of it sliding off the crown.  
Peter leaned over and before beginning the next step, he closed his mouth over Stiles’ glans.  
“Fuck!” Stiles jerked at the unexpected contact. Peter smiled around his shaft, tongue swirling all around it, its saltiness bringing Peter’s taste buds to life.  
“Delicious,” he breathed as he pulled off, pressing a kiss against his naked body, admiring it, and then he moved the candle directly over Stiles’ abdomen.

“Get ready, Stiles.”  
Peter tipped the candle over slowly, keeping his eyes on Stiles’ face as he poured the hot, melted wax onto his body.  
Stiles cursed loudly and bucked against the restraints. It hadn’t been painful, but the texture and temperature had surprised him.  
“Don't make me smack you again. Stay still. Can I continue, baby?” Peter asked as he waited for the wax to cool.   
  
“Yeah…” Stiles was reeling.   
The next time it happened, he was more prepared for the flash of pain, the burning sensation really only lasted for a second and then the pleasant rise to his urges wrung tiny spasms from him.  
  
“You’re so beautiful, Stiles,” Peter purred as he observed him, his own cock unbearably stiff. “Doing so well.”  
The wait… it would be worth it. All of this was making his hot blood race. Stiles couldn’t see it but Peter’s gaze was smoldering. He was the epitome of self-restraint.   
  
“A little more, Stiles, and then we move on. You’re being such a good boy for me.”  
He never knew where Peter was going to pour the wax next, he moved at random, focusing on his chest, his thighs, even pooling it into the indentations of his hips.

He learned to appreciate the balance between the burn and the coo of Peter’s comforting words, enjoying the way he stroked his hair and pecked his lips.  
The wolf spoke softly to him as he blew out the candle audibly and put it away.  
Stiles heard it extinguish and listened more intently, Peter had told him what he would do to him next, described it in excruciating detail.

How he hadn’t come yet was a miracle.  
  
Peter caressed him gently on the back. “I’m starting, Stiles.”  
Nothing could prepare him for the first blow, however, and he cried out loudly as Peter brought down the strap onto his thigh, leaving a red welt that would linger - Stiles would see it later next to his finger welts.  
  
“Are you okay? May I continue?”  
Stiles gritted his teeth and tried to take deep breaths, but he was unable to hold back a guttural moan as Peter ran his hand lightly over the crimson flesh, caressing it gently until the sting subsided.  
Jesus he didn’t think he could get harder but Stiles swore it grew another inch. He shivered in pleasure and not just his cock, but his entire body pulsed.  
“Please… yes….”  
They communicated through his gentle touches. Stiles had been craving Peter since he’d tied him down, he didn’t need words anymore, he only wanted Peter… Peter to fuck him blind.  
He promised he would, right after they were done playing. Promised to make Stiles writhe beneath him in utter delectation.  
  
“Again.” Stiles gripped the ropes tightly and tensed against them when Peter struck once more, this time leaving a wider mark on his other leg.  
Just like before, he kissed and touched the area gently until the pain faded.  
“You’re so good. So obedient.”  
Hearing the praise made Stiles whine.  
  
Stiles’ breathing was hitching, the tension obvious in every line of his body, and Peter debated whether or not to hit him again. This was about pain and pleasure, not torture.  
"More?" he whispered.   
Stiles took long to reply, so he discarded the strap. Peter seared a path up Stiles’ chest in licks and kisses as a prize. “You’ve done so well… I’m so proud of you.”  
Stiles slumped his head and shoulders back against the table in relief, feeling his sex bouncing.   
  
The silence was almost unbearable- the pressure between his legs excruciating. He was desperate for release, the alternating balance of the attention he craved and the pain he shied away from kept him on edge.  
Peter wasn’t done yet though, not by a long shot. (As much as he enjoyed having Stiles at his mercy, he deserved release after having been so patient for so long).  
Just not yet.   
  
The wolf ripped off the blindfold and waited for Stiles’ eyes to adjust to the light. He was still slightly out of breath but made eye contact with Peter the moment he could see again. It was impossible not to, Peter held him in his attentions as he slowly dragged his fingertips over Stiles’ sore, waxed covered hip.

“Do you want to come? Beg me.”  
Of course he did!  
Stiles prayed for it… he tensed up immediately and tried to arch his body into Peter’s touch but he moved his hand along with him, allowing him to feel only what he wanted him to.  
  
"Please Peter, let me come. Let me come..."   
  
“Be patient just a little longer, what did I tell you about moving around?”  
  
Oh god it was finally happening! Stiles hissed loudly and clenched his fingers as Peter finally gave him what he wanted, sliding his hand over his aching hard on and stroking it slowly. Peter had barely touched him but Stiles was already close, every sensation adding to his pleasure and making him curse and buck against the ropes.  
“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”  
Waiting until he knew Stiles was at the edge of an orgasm - he slowed, holding his twitching cock in his hand but not moving enough to let him cum.  
Stiles growled in desperation, breath ragged and muscles rippling.  
“Peter…please…” Stiles’ entire body trembled at the intense pleasure and heat radiating from his core, all he wanted was to cum and his balls ached painfully as he was denied a second time.

He cursed and tugged at the ropes again, he would’ve begged and pleaded, done ANYTHING to be allowed to release.  
“Hmm,” Peter hummed, amusement painting his face as he slapped his thigh again. SMACK!  
  
"Shit!" Stiles whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut.  
"Stop squirming!" Peter scolded him.   
"I'm sorry," Stiles grunted. "I'm sorry," he lowered his eyes.   
  
Peter paid special attention to the sensitive underside of his length, cupping his swollen balls in his hand. The intensity of the pressure overwhelmed him. His hips jerked upwards involuntarily as he felt himself about to cum, his balls tightened painfully and his thighs shook. Of course, right as he was about to, Peter cut him off again.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Stiles exclaimed, slamming his head back into the table.  
Now THIS was torture!  
Peter grinned at the sight. He shushed him and told him he would be allowed to cum soon.  
  
“Just be good… I promise this time you’ll come, sweetheart.”  
Stiles reveled in the feeling of having Peter stroke him with a calculated pressure and speed... but dreaded the thought of him stopping again.  
“Look at me, Stiles.”  
He did. Jesus… the wrecked desire in his lover's pool eyes! He seemed worse off than Stiles!  
  
A libidinous smile tiptoed across Peter’s strained face. “You’re going to be allowed orgasm, but only when I say so. Do you understand?”  
“Yes… Yes, Peter.” He cursed again under his breath, the carnal assault on his senses, on his body… it was a primal heat surging through him. Stiles shuddered as he veered closer to the end, Peter commanding him quietly to hold on for a little longer.  
  
"I promise... "

Stiles could barely hear him over the sound of his own heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears but he obeyed. If it meant Peter saying that word to him... COME... he would obey.   
“So good, so dutiful…”  
Stiles could feel himself arriving at the precipice and hitting the point of no return. That’s when Peter let go and stepped back, arching his body to hover above Stiles'. He didn't want to miss a thing.  
  
“Come, Stiles. Come for me NOW.”  
Jesus Christ! Stiles cried out Peter’s name and mercifully felt his cock twitch into release. "Peter... oh God, Peter!"  
  
Stiles couldn’t have stopped himself at that point even if he wanted to. Peter watched, arms crossed across his chest, a satisfied smile creasing his face. (And his tip leaking into his underwear).  
Stiles literally erupted. The jets of jizz spurted up, rope after rope of his hot cum shooting out of his cock without Peter laying a single finger on him.  
It was a mess. Stiles was a mess. He continued to moan and grunt loudly as his cum landed everywhere- it coated his legs, chest, but mostly on Peter’s crotch who watched in rapture at his feet as Stiles called out his master’s name in the throes of the most intense orgasm he’d ever had.  
  
"That's it, sweetheart." Peter smirked as he went to untie the fastenings. “You did so well,” he breathed. "Everything okay?"  
  
Stiles shot up as soon as he was free, not bothering to answer. Crushing their mouths together, his hands buried in Peter's soft hair, tugging hard. Their tongues painted the roof of their cavities, noses scrunched together.   
Neither minded that they were covered in Stiles’ seed or about to have probably the best sex of their lives... on Derek’s table.  
  
“Fuck me, Peter…” Stiles begged him as he fumbled with his belt. The apricot in his cheeks was a beautiful pastel bloom. “Fuck me so hard all I’ll know is to scream your name again and again and again.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't write BDSM often, hope it wasn't utter shite. Kudos and comments are always appreciated!  
> XXOO


End file.
